Acceptance
by teme16
Summary: One shot. Jim Moriarty thought that no one would ever get to him, apparently he was wrong. Angsty Molliarty and implied Sherlolly.


**an: hello wonderful people! Hiiii! So, this is the long version of the post in tumblr that I made. Basically, it's a one sided Molliarty with implied Sherlolly. I suggest, you listen to Last Night on Earth by Green Day whilst reading this one :) I'm not making any promises, but maybe I could make a third installment for "A Miscalculation" and "A Revelation" I dont know when, because I've been focusing on my Thor fic, please check that out too :3 it would mean alot. **

**I'm an approachable person, so just pm me or review or even follow me on tumblr (where I post all my short prompts, molliarty and sherlolly stuff, tom hiddleston and gemma arterton edits and ... Well.. All nerdy stuff xD especially THG, HP, LOTR, Sherlock, DC, Marvel, TBBT and moreee) and twitter, where I update about my fics :) info in my page , hope you enjoy this one. **

**Sherlock isnt mine. **

* * *

Sipping his tea, in a quaint well lit room beholds a clean and sleek Jim Moriarty. He was alone, something he never really cared about, until now. Faking his own death was part of the fun, his fingers tugging the web of lunacy as his plans fell into place. It was boring him, to be honest; he craved the idea of Sherlock Holmes foiling one of his procedures just so things can be a little less mundane. The time for that would have to wait, not yet, just a little bit longer till he lets the consulting detective swerve him out of his straight line.

He was never a fan of new music, he cringed at the tunes with utter distaste when he hears it. The next door neighbor was no exception, blasting loud music on and on, especially on weekends, but a particular song perked up his ears. It was slow, the lyrics were bittersweet; Green day, he knew the band, although he hated society, he was not isolated from it. Last Night On Earth, he recalled. Jim scoffed, just like his go to song Stayin Alive, it affected him.

Closing his eyes for a moment, a grim smile grew on his face as he laughed at himself. Being alone in that room bothered him so much and it was all because of the woman in the building across his. His chair faced a window where he could see a dull looking woman, working in a lab coat. Molly Hooper, the person he used in his evil scheme. There were times where he wanted to strangle her, there were times where he wanted to attack her in a sensual manner and there were times when she made him question his intelligence. That's the thing about mousy Molly, she was boring and yet he found a new interest in her.

Jim was not stupid, he was not numb, unlike Sherlock. He knew the feelings that crept up in him, it was foreign. Yes. It was. It was disgusting at first, he wanted to gnaw it out. As time flew by, he stumbled in to his own irrational solution, loving her from afar. It was all fine at first, peering over the window, unconsciously smirking when she furrowed her eyebrows in frustration, but then Tom came along and it sickened him. Yes, he sent out men to "lightly" beat the life out of the poor lad, even stealing his wallet just so they can call it a crime of theft. Molly was his to begin with, not Sherlock's nor Tom's.

You could imagine the joy when he found out the engagement was cancelled, he even thought of sparing a life for once, but convinced himself it was a fun way to get his victims to rejoice... For only a couple of minutes before a sniper shot one of his victims to the ground.

He thought that nobody could penetrate his thick barrier, he was wrong and he never liked the idea of him being wrong. Some of the times that made him feel so weak, he would lay out a gun tracking Molly, he never let his men do it though, it was him. It was his right and he always found himself talking about the merits she could bring to his own being rather than the cons that could convince himself to kill her once and for all.

Jim peeked through the blinds, wishing he never did, but he continued to look anyway. To feel the reality and pain that he once craved for, but somehow loathes it at the same time.

He was not supposed to feel this way, this unnecessary feeling of hurt and jealousy. It was a waste of time! Heck! It was distracting him! Why did it bother him so much? Why did it affect him?

"I might hurt her more than he does." He said under his breath, shaking his head in acceptance. He looked at the sight one last time, Sherlock kissed Molly and what made it insufferable was when she brightly smiled at the consulting detective, knowing that she smiled at him in that manner long ago as well. That smile was once his and the glint in her eyes also, those hugs were exclusive to him, but not anymore.

Jim Moriarty is a man. A man with intelligence and grimness in his heart. He is a man affiliated with the demons underground, who fell in love with an angel.


End file.
